


Heartless

by prettybadmagic



Series: Heaven Sent [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dick Pics, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grey Sweatpants, Masturbation, Nude Photos, POV Sandor Clegane, Sexting, Shameless Smut, Smut, Swearing, and an absolutely filthy mind, and his hands good grief, iykyk, lots and lots of swearing, sandor clegane has a very dirty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybadmagic/pseuds/prettybadmagic
Summary: After a hard day at the distillery, all Sandor wants is a lengthy gaming session. Sansa has other plans for him. She's been texting Sandor ever since they met at Electric Melee, and tonight she has a special request: nudes.Sandorhatestaking pictures of himself, but he'd hate to disappoint his little bird even more.And besides, she asks very nicely.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Heaven Sent [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885234
Comments: 42
Kudos: 200





	Heartless

**Author's Note:**

> _Inspo track:[Getter - Heartless](https://youtu.be/UEHfc6yVNf0) (Yes, I *do* scrounge all my music up from the dumpster. But lemme tell ya, this version of Sandor fully approves _😤_ )_
> 
> This fic is outrageously horny. Let’s just say it was written from the POV of Sandor’s _other_ head. This time around, I’m experimenting with formatting. I’ve read a few fics that incorporate text messages, so that’s what I’m tinkering with. Mine are bolded and color coded. I think it makes sense, but I’d love to hear from y’all.
> 
> Also, you should read A Little Taste of Heaven (the first in the series) before reading this one if you want a more meaningful reading experience. If you just want smut, who am I to judge? 🤗
> 
> Enjoy 🔥

Sandor had only just dropped into his desk chair—a 20oz can of Demon Energy Zero in one hand and a bag of Flaming Comets in the other—when his phone buzzed. Tormund, probably, wondering why he hadn't logged on yet. Work was shit. One of the tanks sprung a vapor leak and ignited, burning all the skin off Luke’s left arm. 

The man would be fine, somewhat. But it was a whole fucking fiasco, and it took eight grueling hours to set right. 

Sandor made it home, showered, and now he was here. Ready to play at being a knight with his whole sorry lot of friends, if you could even call them that. 

But it wasn't Tormund. 

It was _her_. 

The sweet girl he'd met at Electric Melee a moon ago, who needled his number out of him and enjoyed nothing more than blowing up his phone at the most inconvenient hours. She had a real knack for it, all that chirping and chattering, even when she wasn't high as a fucking kite. She was brutally chipper. 

And Sandor was an absolute fool for her. He read her message. 

**Hi!** 😇💞🌟💝😽

The _hearts_ , always with the fucking hearts. And the cat face—what was that even for? Seven hells, she made him feel old. 

**Hey** , was all he sent back. _Fuck texting_. It was bloody tedious and trite to boot. 

Sandor slammed his phone down and turned on his PC. It whirred to life beside him, showering the desktop in crimson light. Sandor loved the sweet purr of the machine he had built himself, 32GB of raw gaming potential. The only thing that kept him sane these days. _Almost._

He only managed to crack open his drink and log on before his phone buzzed again. If he was a smart man, he would have turned it off. 

**Whatcha up to! **

**Nm. just got home**

He should have left it there, but—

**What about you?**

Sandor slid on his headphones. That was it, he would let it lie. But the next message came with a picture. He swiped it open with a speed he'd never own up to. 

He wasn't disappointed. 

**Bored in bed. Keep me company?** **👻**

The ghost didn't make any fucking sense, but _the picture_ , fucking hells. It turned Sandor half-hard in an instant. He'd never known a girl so effortlessly pretty as her, with her long auburn curls and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a matching set of frilly pastel pajamas—tiny shorts and an even tinier shirt that put her cleavage on full display. 

_No bra_.

Half-hard was a lie. Sandor's cock had gone from zero to one hundred and strained to be freed from his sweats. He knew he shouldn't have caved. Now he'd have to beat one out before he joined the next game, unless he wanted his boner to tank his kill ratio. 

But. 

The little bird had never sent a message quite like this. _Bored. Bed. Company_. That was an invitation. Sandor was certain it wasn't his meat talking—the signals were as plain as day. The picture too, those pretty pajamas. She sent him pictures often enough. What she wore to work, or school, or to go out, but nothing so suggestive. Nothing sheer enough to reveal the outline of her little pink nipples, all perky beneath a scant layer of cotton. 

**Sure**

He would regret it. But he couldn't resist. 

**Can I see you?**

Sandor grunted. **I don't do selfies**

 **Laaaame. Pretty please** **😽😽😽**

**Why**

**Bc you're hot? I wanna see those muscles** **🔥💪🏼**

 _Fuck._ She had really liked his body. She spent upwards of an hour petting his tattoos and milking him for war stories. The girl loved to talk, problem was, she also really liked to listen. She had a way of forcing Sandor to talk back. 

So he turned his camera on himself and took a quick shot of his bare chest, with a bonus flexed bicep for her good manners. It would do. 

**Here**

**Ooooo yummy. Are those grey sweats I see** 👀

**Yeah why**

** Umm don't act like you don't know  **

**I don't**

Sandor sighed and put a fistful of comets in his mouth. The girl was always toying with him. The sweats were nothing special, and besides, only the waistband was in the shot. Below that was, well, something she didn't need to see. 

** You're so full of it. you can't be *that* old  **

**What if I am?**

**Sandor** 😑

** Boys wear grey sweats to show off...the outline **

Oh. 

_The outline_.

Well he certainly fucking had that. 

**What are you getting at little bird**

** Ummm can i see it? **

**The outline?**

** The outline…please :)  **

Sandor swiped at his jaw. Subtlety wasn't her game tonight, not that he cared. His dick was rock hard, his Demon had gone room temp, and his gaming buddies probably thought he was dead at this point. So sure, she could see it. He'd rather she put her pretty mouth on it again, but unless she could travel a few hundred miles tonight, that wasn't happening. 

He'd make do with another fucking selfie. 

It should have been easy. Point and shoot. But were you supposed to grab it? Hold it up? Press it down? Or just let it fucking flop? The women Sandor had been with didn't care for texting and they definitely didn't ask him for pictures. 

So he googled _grey sweatpants_ , and he got the idea. Mirror, hard-on, let it dangle. _Hover_ , more like. 

Sandor stalked to the bathroom, puffed up his chest real nice, stuck a hand over his balls, and took the damn picture. No one could claim he didn't fill out his pants, that's for sure. He didn't like that his face was in it, but it was only the good side, so it would work. He pressed send.

Then he went back to his desk, watching the three dots at the bottom of the screen as the little bird drafted what must have been the world's longest message. 

Was it too much? 

No, she liked his body, _a lot_. His dick included. She couldn't keep her hands off him. 

Finally, she replied. 

** Omg **

And that was it. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? 

But then—

 **What's on your mind** **🤭**

He wasn't going to lie. **You**

 **What about me?**

**Your mouth.** Still not lying. 

She chewed on that one for a while. It gave Sandor enough time to down some of his drink and check who was online. His eyes were on the screen but all he saw were those lips, plush and pink, soft and wet. Gods, she had finished him off in less than what, two minutes? Even with a little paste in him. She was _that_ _good_.

He palmed his bulge. Maybe he should just go for it, get it over with. Then his phone buzzed. 

It was a video.

Sandor had no idea what he had done to deserve such a fucking delight. It was thirty seconds of Sansa going to town on a bright red lollipop, all slurps and licks and cute little giggles. Just her mouth, too. A real good closeup. Gods, that tongue, that tongue could do work. 

Sandor's hand slipped beneath his waistband. 

**Very pretty**

**Lol just pretty?** **🤐**

Fuck, zipped mouth? Was he supposed to shut up? 

No, he needed to give her more. He stepped on the gas. 

**You have no idea what I want to do with it**

** Oh really? I think I do  **

**Tell me**

** I think you want what I gave you in your tent **

**And what was that?**

** Only the best head of your entire life **

Well, she certainly didn't beat around the bush. And she wasn't wrong, either. 

**You can't be surprised I want more**

**Lol I can *see* you want more. he needs attention, bad** **🤭**

**Give it to me then**

A risk, maybe, but Sandor couldn't think beyond the pulse in his fist. He was working on it, but he was taking it slow. The way the girl was talking made him think the best was yet to come. 

Five long minutes went by. 

The next time his phone went off, it was Tormund. 

** Where the fuck are you  **

Sandor ignored him. 

** I can tell you're online you dumb cunt what's the fucking hold up  **

** We need a rogue knight to round out the team  **

** I know your family's all dead so don't even try that one **

Finally— 

** Is it a fucking girl?  **

Sandor snapped. **Can you get off my cock for one fucking second**

** It's a girl  **

**Fuck you**

** Hope the pussy is worth it mate  **

**Not as sweet as yours**

** Yeah yeah but you better be on tomorrow or we're gonna have ask fucking Pod to fill in  **

**I'll see what I can do**

Sandor chucked his phone onto the desk and slumped back in his chair. What was taking her so long? He couldn't stay this hard much longer before losing all his damn blood and passing out cold. No one would find him for months, not until the stench drifted through the pass. Worse, he'd still have his cock in his hand. Sandor laughed. A fucking grim notion, that. 

Thankfully, he was spared. His phone blew up. _Zz zz zz zz zz zz,_ one ring after the next. When Sandor worked up the courage to look, his jaw fell slack. He punched the power button on his computer, shucked off his sweats, and dropped into bed. 

Only when he was sunk into the perfect spot on his mattress did he open up his phone again. 

**I think I would start here** , the first message read. Below it, a picture of Sansa's mouth, filled with her own fingers. Spit dripping down her knuckles. Cheeks flushed. Shit yeah, that was good. **Then I want you here**. A cleavage shot. Her tits were pretty small, but they were the perfect round shape and bang-on symmetrical. Anyway, she had pushed them together. She gripped herself with one hand, a pert nipple poking through cotton and spit-shined fingers. Sandor's dick _really_ liked that one. 

The last picture almost did him in. 

** You would end up here **

Fingers, gone. Down the front of her pajama bottoms, over that sweet little mound of hers. This one didn't show her face, but her back was all arched, her belly taut, and her tits were damn near falling out of that little shirt. Gods, if she ever rode him like that— 

He had to stop himself.

 _Think of Gregor_. 

Then he was kinda pissed off, but at least he didn't come. Another message popped up. 

** How does that sound? **

**Too good to be true**

**I can make your dreams come true** **🌠**

**Is that so?**

** Mhmmm :)  **

**Then take off your shirt. and show me**

He hated the next three minutes. Nothing to listen to but his stupid shallow breath and the rhythmic whack of skin on skin.

The reward made it worthwhile, though.

** Not as sparkly as the last time you saw them  **

Sandor didn't give ten shits about sparkles. Not when they covered up _those._ Two perfect tits, with two perfect rosy nipples. Gods, the proportions of the damn things, and the way her tiny little waist tapered just beneath. What wouldn't he give to mash his hands on them again. Hah—to think, _she_ put him there, that night in his tent. 

**They're perfect**

** Really? **

**Shit yeah**

**Prettiest tits in all seven kingdoms**

**Wish I could get my hands on them. My mouth too**

**I'd eat you up little bird**

He didn't know where all the words came from, but they were gone before he could get them back. 

**Mmmm I'd like that. I miss your hands.** **😳**

Sandor groaned. **They miss you too**

** It's your turn now **

**For what**

** Pictures  **

_Fuck._ **What do you want to see?**

** Him ;) **

Sandor put his phone face down on his bedspread and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it over his scars out of habit. 

He knew what she was asking for. She wanted a dick pic, and the cold hard truth was that Sandor had never sent one. He loved fucking all right, but that was done _in person_. He didn't do all this long distance, virtual pen pal shit. He didn't need to spend all his time memorializing his erections and storing them in the cloud. He put them to work. 

His phone buzzed again. 

**Please? I really need it** **💕**

_Fuck, that'll do it._

Sandor opened up his camera and aimed down. Surely this one didn't need his ugly face, just the juicy bits. It all looked well enough, red, swollen, fighting to break out of his iron grip with each thundering throb. He was huge, too. Ten fucking inches. Girls loved that shit, even if they couldn't stand to look at his scars. 

He took the picture and sent it. _No getting it back now._

Watching Sansa type was agony. 

Eventually, she settled on something.

** I want you inside of me so bad  **

Sandor growled. What a naughty fucking girl. 

**Show me where**

He was well and truly going at it when the next picture pinged into his inbox. 

It was the best one yet. 

**Right here** **,** was the caption. Her shorts were gone, not that they were much to begin with, and she was down to her panties. Green lace flowers wrapped around her slender hips and dipped between her legs, to where her hand was buried. _Buried_. Not simply laying on top of her cunt, but _inside_.

The best part was the wet spot, right above where her fingers were working. She had soaked straight through her panties. 

**Naughty little bird. How did you get so wet?**

** Thinking of you  **

**What about me**

** You putting your hands on me again **

** All warm and strong **

** I think about riding your fingers all the time **

** But I also want your cock **

** It's so big and so **

** So angry **

** I *need* you inside of me**

** But**

** Do you think I could make you fit? **

**Not sure**

And then—

**I'd have to see you first**

It was dicey territory, keeping his strokes this strong so late in the game, but he was horny as a fucking teenager. Maybe sexting wasn't so terrible. Thinking about Sansa, with her hand down her pretty little panties, her brow screwed up as she imagined much bigger, stronger things than her own fingers. Gods, it was second best to him actually being inside of her. Something about the yearning, the agonizing distance, the _almost_ , but not quite—

Sandor thought of his brother. 

He put his hand away, for now. That was way too close. 

_Zz zz zz_

Sandor said a quick prayer to the Stranger, then swiped. 

There were no words, just her, spread open. 

What a fucking sight. 

A pretty pink flower. A rosebud, scarcely unfurled, with sweet curls of auburn hair instead of thorns. A _dewy_ rosebud. Whatever she had been thinking of had made her little petals swell and glisten. Sandor truly would need the grace of the Gods if he was ever to get his hands on _that_. 

Still, she looked small. Wet enough to take him in, tight enough to make him burst on contact. 

**You're so fucking pretty**

** You think so?  **

**I know so**

**You could have my hands anytime you wanted**

**I'd put them all over you. Inside you. You wouldn't last long**

** Mmm yes please **

** But sandor  **

** You didn't answer my question  **

**What's that**

** Will you fit?  **

The noise that forced its way up Sandor's throat was decidedly subhuman. Of course he got off on that wide-eyed stare that women gave him every time he dropped trow. They always wanted to know the same thing. _Are you going to break me? Are you sure your cock won't split me in two?_ He didn't typically deliver any promises, but for her… 

**It would**

** Yeah?  **

**Yeah**

**It'd be tight. I'd stretch you out, make you moan and whine**

**But you'd take it**

**You'd be a good little bird and take it all**

** I could do that  **

**I'll be good **

Oh, that almost broke him. Sandor wasn't even touching himself. His cock was alive on his abdomen, dancing to whatever song Sansa sang to it, and what pretty songs they were. She was undoubtedly heaven sent. 

** Sandor? **

**Mhm**

** Are you close **

He bit back a laugh. **I've been close all night sweet girl**

** I am too...but I need one last thing  **

**What's that**

** A video **

** Of you **

** Finishing  **

Then, a half minute later—

** Sound on **

Sandor's thumb hovered over the keyboard. A video. She wanted a whole damn video. With what fucking sounds? The stunted groans and heavy breathing of a beyond horny thirty-something? What girl wanted to hear a grown man grind one out? 

_This girl._

This wild, delicate, brave girl. His little bird. 

** Please? Pretty please? I promise it'll be safe with me **

** I just really need to hear your voice  **

** Please 💘 **

Sandor grit his teeth. A girl with bloody manners. 

**Fine**

**But only because you asked nicely**

** ty!!! ✨💖🔥😻 **

He gripped himself again, then switched on the camera. He didn't like the downward angle this time. Dicks weren't supposed to be pretty, but they definitely weren't supposed to look so alien, like some hungry red snake out for a snack. 

So he tried tilting the lens upward. That put his torso and all his tattoos in the frame, something the girl was sure to like. It showed his face too, but shadow covered most of his burns. Not too ugly. Not _frightening_ , he hoped. Sansa would have to deal with it. 

Then came the recording bit. 

Sandor couldn't convince his thumb to drop down on that stupid red circle. _She needs to hear my voice_. Brilliant. What was he supposed to say? Putting on a show would make his cock softer than snow. He hated being the center of attention, because he was always the fucking center of attention. Being seven feet tall with a fucked up face will get you just that. 

But there wasn't a crowd. It was just her, just his little bird. 

What had it been like to have her all to himself? 

He put himself back there, in his tent, the night they first met. It was quiet. The bass was nothing more than the buzzing of flies. The wind was louder, but Sandor had never known a finer sound than the rustling of those flimsy nylon walls. It was the first thing he heard when he came back with her, all three times. 

He went away, and came back every time to her sweet smell and sweeter smiles. 

Gods, her fucking smile. That was the prettiest thing about her. Not her tits, or her cunt, or even her mouth. It was her smile, all her pretty white teeth and the accompanying sparkles in her big blue eyes. She had smiled the entire time she sucked him off. Giggled, too. Not to mock him—it was from sheer, unbridled joy. 

He started to move his hand. 

_It's just us_ , he told himself. _The Hound and his little bird_. 

He hit record. 

At first he didn't say anything. His strokes were deliberate and thorough, from base to tip. He rode out every throb with a shudder, until she was there, kneeling between his legs. 

"Little bird…" It was a tight rasp. "This is what you do to me, little bird." 

All of Sandor’s air fell out of him. How could a girl be so powerful? He teetered on the edge of release so precariously that it hurt. His cock _ached_ ; it fucking screamed in his fist. "You're a naughty bird, with all your pretty smiles. You know that?" He tried to get his air back, but his lungs wouldn't cooperate. "You make me so fucking hard."

There was that noise again, the primal rumbling in the back of his throat. Each stroke was agony. Each stroke came with its own fucking noise, base, raw, and choked off by his ragged breath. "I can't…" he started, but the words snagged on his tongue. "Little bird, I can't…" 

He was fucking _pleading_ , begging incoherently for the end of this, the sweetest of tortures. 

"I can't last much longer. I'm gonna come for you now, little bird. It’s all for you." 

He felt it, the ghost of her smile, starbright. That gentle ghost nudged him straight into oblivion. Heart pounding. Lungs heaving. Deep black sky, newly studded with white. Sparkles. Glitter. Silly, pretty things with razor edges that cut through the dark. There was nothing. 

And then there was everything. 

His body, sunk into soft cotton. His hand, sticky. His abs, the stickiest of all. 

And the phone—

Sandor threw himself up to sitting and stopped the recording. He couldn't bear to watch it, so he said a mute prayer and hit send. 

Then he flopped back down and tried to breathe. Even from hundreds of miles away she had stolen all his air. He couldn't say how long he waited there, only that by the time his phone went off, his breath and pulse had both agreed to stay steady. 

His heart betrayed him when he saw it was. 

She had sent her own video. 

He hesitated. There truly wouldn't be any turning back from this one. But, as ever, Sandor was a man who knew what he wanted. 

He opened it up and pressed play. 

The little bird lived in a very pretty world. She reclined on a pile of ruffled pillows and a matching bedspread, pink with ruby red strawberries. A sweet candy girl, with her bubblegum center on full display. She needed two hands to search for the goodness within. She was fluttering, thighs quivering, her breath coming in cute shallow wisps. 

Sandor loved her noises. They were nothing like his, rough and heavy as ore. No, her sounds were songs. Sweet melodies, light as spun sugar. At first the songs didn't have any words, but as she petted herself, they started to spill out of her. 

"Sandor…" was the first one. He had nothing left in the tank, but even so, hearing her name on his lips made his blood simmer. 

"I'll be good," she panted. "I can take all of you, I promise." 

Fuck, that one was good too. And her face, Gods, what a sight. A cherry red blush filled her cheeks, and her delicate brow twisted in concentration. Her expression shifted with every light stroke, each one prettier than the last. 

"Oh, Sandor, you feel so good." 

Her hands went faster now, making sweet, slippery sounds as they probed her pink wetness. Sandor felt those sounds in his cock and deeper, straight into his guts. The girl was _drenched_. He had never envied someone's fingers so much as he did hers. He imagined himself there, in the sugar-coated world. Her hand was his hand. His fingers were foraging inside her cunt and drawing out all her sticky syrup. 

Seven fucking hells. 

He was hard again. 

_This girl._ Sandor grabbed himself and growled. _Nothing left to give and still she forces it out of me._

But he couldn't deny the pleasure of it. His hand had never felt any fucking better than this, because he was looking at _her_ , watching the puddle on her covers grow bigger and bigger. What wouldn't he give to have his face nestled between those legs, stealing a taste of her sweet, sparkling dew. Sandor would suck her dry. He'd lick all of her mess up, and she would fucking thank him for it. 

"I'm almost…" her voice was a fragile, trembling thing. "I'm almost there." 

_Fuck._ She certainly looked like it, and Sandor needed to keep up. 

He went faster, thrashing himself full tilt. This time he watched her mouth. That's where the sweetest things came from, all the things that made his cock spur in his fist. She let out a stream of little whimpers, biting at her lower lip as if that would keep them in. 

"Please," came one of them. "Fill me up. Come inside me, Sandor." 

Oh, that truly made his pulse rage. 

Her cunt _needed_ him, all swollen and sopping wet like that. Those little hands were nothing compared to his monstrous fucking length. He'd _rail_ her. He'd plow her bones into that pretty strawberry blanket until her songs became screams. 

And no doubt about it, he'd fill her candy center with cream. 

"Sandor, I'm—I'm—oooh—" 

She was coming.

But not only that. 

She was _smiling._

This time it wasn't a memory that pushed him over the edge, it was the real fucking thing. Her bow lips curled up at the corners, with her little pink tongue pressed between her pearly white teeth. And the song, the fucking song that slipped from them— 

"Sandor," she hummed. And again, a chorus, "Oh, Sandor." 

That took him far the fuck out. 

White. Snow. A sea of stars, maybe. Tiny crystals, diamond bright, weightless. Floating. 

It was brilliant. It was new. 

_Bliss._

It was fleeting.

Sandor plummeted back down. 

His room, his bed. Threadbare sheets stained with Gods know what. Sagging crossbeams overhead, soft and black in too many places. A bedside blockade of empty take out containers gathering gnats. And everywhere, silence. 

His world. 

Sandor sighed, bone deep. He was back. Alone. 

He mopped at his sweat-drenched brow with an equally slick forearm, then wiped up the mess on his stomach with a shirt he scooped from the floor. He threw it right back down. 

_Zz zz zz_

_Fuck._

Sandor groped for his phone and found it tangled in the sheets. 

💖💗💞💓💝

The fucking hearts again. At the very least, he knew if she sent a bunch of emojis at once, it meant he was supposed to say something back. But what the fuck was he supposed to say? Thanks for dragging me into the void and spitting me back out? That was sure to ruin her night. 

His thumbs were busy on the keyboard, but he hated everything they typed. He groaned and deleted his message. Then he drafted another. Then he deleted it. 

He groaned. 

Then he went back to the tent. 

The two of them. Sansa between his legs, tracing the lines of every tattoo, every scar. _What about this one? And this one? And these?_

She looked so cute in his t-shirt, her slight frame swallowed up by all that extra fabric. It was funny, wasn’t it, how they had traded places. She made him kneel for those damn wings, and then she made him chirp right back at her, all night long. He hadn't talked so much in years. 

Wings or t-shirt, she was still the same girl. Porcelain skin, ruby hair. Heaven sent. 

He fired off the message before he could think twice about it. 

**You're an angel**

Her response was lightning quick. 

** Sandor 😑 **

** I'm a little bird  **

** *your* little bird  **

Sandor grinned. 

There was no one in the universe but her. No one gawking or cowering. No Gregor. No flame. 

Just her. 

**I'm glad you flew into my path**

**Sweet little bird <3**

But she didn't answer straight away, and Sandor's gut twisted. It was too much—the stupid fucking heart, what was he thinking. He had a brief vision of smashing his phone against the wall until only a pile of dust remained. 

Finally those three dots popped up. He held his breath, and waited. 

Her message knocked all the wind out of him. 

**I'm glad you caught me 🐦❤️🐶**

And it came with a picture, too.

Sansa on her strawberry sheets, her strawberry curls fanned out around her. A pretty smile on her face, and on her body—

_His shirt._

His _favorite_ shirt. The one he wore at least once a week, clean or dirty. The one he had impulsively handed over the second he saw the girl shivering. But it looked much prettier on her, didn't it? All the harshness of that snarling hound turned soft on her gentle curves. 

She made everything pretty. And no matter what she wore or said, Sandor couldn't shake that feeling—the feeling that she had tumbled down from the sky, to serve him just the tiniest slice of heaven. 

It tasted so, so sweet. 

He hoped she was here to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp.
> 
> There you have it.
> 
> Let me know if you're interested in more long distance sexy shenanigans <3


End file.
